


Thirteenth Sign

by gladheonsleeps



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Children raising children, Gen, I can't believe that has to be specified, No Incest, No Smut, Ophiuchus has OPINIONS about, Precious Regulus Black, Precocious Sirius Black, Raised by Narcissists, Rituals, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, Warning: Walburga Black, babies raising babies, but no incest (other than the canon walburga/Orion grossness), older brother blues, please read the warnings, ritual judgement, that should be a tag on all HP fics tbh, where are all the responsible adults?, which believe me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladheonsleeps/pseuds/gladheonsleeps
Summary: what if Sirius wasn't the oldest Black brother?That's it, that's the fic.Read for a story where the Black household on Grimmauld Place isn't quite so overtaken by the trainwreck that is the Walburga-Sirius unchecked clash of titanic personalities as it is in canon, and Sirius isn't the Black son with the weight of expectations landing heaviest on his shoulders. Stay for the adorable Regulus and Sirius Black as eccentric small children.
Relationships: Original Male Character & Arcturus Black III, Original Male Character & Sirius Black & Regulus Black, Orion Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 102





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> /ɒfiˈjuːkəs/ ... or, in plain English, "oh-FEW-kuss” the thirteenth sign, known as the 'Serpent Bearer'
> 
> (see note at end of chapter for warnings)
> 
> disclaimer:  
> I do not own any rights to the masterpiece that is Giuseppe Stromboli and the Briefcase of Meatballs. All characters in this fan fiction other than Ophiuchus Corvus Black, Libra Sagitta Black, Morrigan McGonagall or Clementine Bones are owned by JK Rowling & co; I just play in her sandbox etc etc. there is also supplementary worldbuilding to Joanne's because let's be honest, she only provided us with a rough framework to work with here...but that's all part of the fun
> 
> Even though this fic doesn't explicitly contain any trans characters, I just want to shout to my trans readers. I love you, and I'm so sorry Jo is such a fucking TERF  
> If you agree or support Joanne's trans exclusionary feminism, or think that the rights of trans people to exist and strive for as content and safe a life as anyone else are too much to ask, kindly fuck right off and get your eyeballs away from any work of mine. Regards, your friendly neighbourhood nonbinary author
> 
> ps// also while we're here, Black Lives Matter, and even though she's not in this fic, my Hermione Granger is always black x

Ophiuchus Corvus Black woke in the middle of the night to the feeling of two very wriggly every flavoured beans climbing into his bed. He heard several thumps and a vengeful scream from a floor below and sighed. Their parents were fighting again, and the boys always found it hard to sleep when that happened. He'd asked them to cast privacy wards more than once, but it seemed basic courtesies were simply too much to ask for some people. 

Little Regulus, toting his ever present soft chimera toy, came right around to his right side instead of trying to sleep next Sirius, having learned the hard way that it was better to be protected somewhat from the wild tempest of kicking and flailing of limbs that was Sirius whenever he slept. The boy never stilled; he was in constant motion, whether conscious or not. Regulus was no slouch either, but instead of flailing, he was more like Hogwarts' famous giant squid, latching onto anyone or anything he was sleeping near, which was one reason his attachment to Nox the Blackest Chimera was encouraged rather than severed. Not that Ophiuchus minded the hugging all that much, he slept like the dead either way, and would always steal the blanket. 

Their Nanny elf Monstar had solved that problem by using a soft kind of elfin sticking charm so they all kept their own blankets all night. They couldn't have the littlest ones going all night in the cold after all.

At that moment however, both boys were wide awake, and both Sirius and Regulus hugged his sides and he sat up between them and wrapped them in his arms as much as he could, rubbing their backs soothingly and stroking their silken soft hair away from their faces. He wasn't able to cuddle them very well, or give the kind of hugs or reassurance they needed. He was, after all, only ten years old. 

Nevertheless, he was the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and while he was still working out what  _ precisely _ that meant, as what his mother said and what his grandfather the paterfamilias said were becoming more and more disparate as time went on, he knew it was his job to make sure his family were safe and grew up to be the best they could be.

As the voices, thumps and crashes started up again from one floor down where their parents were rowing in their bedroom, Sirius asked, “Could you tell us about the WitchKing again?” 

Ophiuchus nodded in the dark and started telling the story that his grandfather had told him so many times, “Once, back in ancient times when men had no magic, there were three brothers who were a part of the Peverell Clan who, as all Peverells tended to, loved to venture out on adventures in many far flung lands. On one particular journey, the furthest they'd ever gone before, they heard tell of a woman in the area who was both a scholar and a warrior, a woman rich in magics that had been passed down from mother to daughter; a woman who was rumoured to know Death personally...”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello folks! I don't remember whether or not I warned about this, but this one has really short chapters, though I think this is the shortest. sorry, I've been meaning to post more regularly but my brain just hasn't been in a state to. however things are getting better, so at least there is that <3 hope this finds you all with also improving situations <3

“What are you drawing Regulus?” Ophiuchus’ baby brother had been sitting at his small desk and working very intently on one piece of parchment for twenty minutes. He was an avid drawerer, and he had performed accidental magic so often to create different colours and effects with his fine black ink in the past few years that Ophiuchus wasn't sure it was accidental anymore, but true Talent in the making.

Regulus’ response was said very softly, “Our sister. She’s a secret, so we have to be quiet.” 

Ophiuchus raised an eyebrow, “Our _sister_?”

Regulus nodded, and showed him the picture. It was of course drawn by a six year old, no matter how much talent he had for the craft, so it was none too clear, but it was clear enough to tell it was depicting a girl, with hair a soft red colour that was almost pink, and grey eyes. She was small, and drawn next to the three boys with black hair and grey eyes that were obviously he, Regulus and Sirius, and they were all holding hands. There was also a nundu, a hippogriff and a chimera, because this was Regulus; he loved his magical beasts and creatures, and saw absolutely no reason for their absence in any picture that he drew. 

“What is her name?” He asked, and Regulus came close and softly stroked the picture of the little girl, and said tenderly, “Libra Sagitta.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends, just a warning that there are references to abusive parenting in this chapter. they aren't in too much detail, but could be distressing if you've had a bad day. 
> 
> hope this finds you well x

The weather was cold and blustery, and Ophiuchus thought about how warm it had been in his grandfather's study next to the fire before they'd rugged up in their cloaks and stepped out in order to apparate to what seemed to him to be the middle of nowhere; though from the land he guessed it was nearer to the Keep than not. The trees in the distance were near bent over in the fierce wind that was throwing raindrops their way at a truly preposterous angle. If it weren't for his grandfather’s charmwork, they'd be soaked to the skin even through their cloaks. 

They paused in the meadow for a moment as his grandfather whispered a Secret into his ear, “Clementine Bones is with child, and she is hidden at Blackberry cottage in the North.” 

His grandfather had no other words to say, but silently ushered him forwards, and Ophiuchus felt the smooth watery feeling of Black family wards slide over his skin before a small cottage was revealed. 

It had already been a long day. Ophiuchus had been urgently summoned to Black Keep early in the morning, and his grandfather had locked them away in his study to tell him how bastards were made. 

Well, he told him how all babies were made, but instead of being able to wait a little longer for the planned lesson on marriage contracts and Ophiuchus’ future responsibilities as far as siring heirs and scions, and ensuring the continued survival of the House of Black; he had to tell him now, at the age of ten, because his father had apparently liked Ophiuchus’ governess even  _ more _ than he had. 

He was sure it wasn't for her brilliant gift for storytelling, her patience with Sirius’ rambunctiousness and a seemingly endless well of enthusiasm to match Regulus’ for fantastic beasts, creatures and beings. Nor had it been her sweet, soft hugs that made a young boy feel safe in the world. 

Ophiuchus wrinkled his nose. Well, at least not the same  _ kinds _ of hugs. Ick. 

The revelation did explain more than a few things. such as Miss Clementine’s sudden and inexplicable disappearance from the boys’ lives the year before, despite the fact that she had  _ said _ she loved them, and then  _ left _ . it had been equally distressing to all three boys, as they'd come to rely on her in many different ways where they simply  _ couldn't _ with their parents or aunts and uncles. It also explained their mother’s even more vehement than usual hatred for the poor woman who hadn't ever  _ seemed _ to do anything wrong, as well as the increase in bloody rows between his parents. It also explained (in a kind of hideously monstrous fashion) the way he had caught his mother accosting a weeping Sirius and Regulus in the nursery after bath time one night, and lecturing them about how their winkies weren't  _ their _ winkies but the  _ family’s _ , and were only for making the family stronger, not weaker. 

The violent burst of magic that followed hadn't been in any way accidental, but if the adults wanted to call it that and let Ophiuchus off for it because he didn't yet have a wand, he'd let them. It had the desired effect of their mother staying away from the nursery from then on, so he was happy. 

So here they were out in the middle of nowhere, and Ophiuchus was finally going to get to see their governess again. This wasn't exactly how he had hoped it would happen, but it would still be good to see her. He felt guilty, as he knew it wasn't a particularly good situation for Miss Clementine; but he missed her, and he was glad it was _her_ and not one of the other ladies that chased after his father all the time. She would be a good mother, in his opinion. A dark part in the back of his mind wished she could be  _ his _ mother too, and Sirius and Regulus’. Miss Clementine never yelled at Sirius for being Sirius, and tried her hardest to always plan things out so they wouldn't make Regulus overwhelmed with his magical sensitivity.

Lord Black’s knock on the heavy oak door was a sharp rap, and the door was opened by a red faced and sweaty woman in healer green who glared at them warily before softening as she saw who it was. “Come in then, she's just resting. She did a very good job, though she’ll get no thanks for it I imagine.” 

As they stepped inside, Ophiuchus felt another ward ripple over them; a powerful, almost sentient protective ward that hunted for any intent to harm. His grandfather had taught him to always hire a midwife who was adept at duelling and protective magics, as protecting the baby and mother could be a difficult task if someone didn't want the child to live; and there were many reasons why people would resort to killing a baby or a mother. Though it happened rarely in the sixties, it  _ did _ still happen, and there was no harm in being overly vigilant, and could be much harm in not.

The old woman, who Ophiuchus could tell would be quite wicked with a wand, exchanged a heavy look with his grandfather, and he felt the heavy hand on his shoulder as he was steered down the small hall to a cosy bedroom where Miss Clementine was tucked up in bed, wrapped in a pretty night robe, and looking utterly exhausted. Ophiuchus recognised the situation from when Regulus was born. 

He looked closer, and sure enough, there was a little baby with hair that was very soft looking, and the colour that was almost pink, just like Regulus’ drawing. He looked up at Miss Clementine and smiled at her, and she gave him a tired smile back, though she was formal in her greeting, “Lord Black, Heir Black.” 

He looked up at his grandfather who nodded, and ushered him closer, giving him permission to see his half-sister up close, and he did. She was tiny, pink, and seemed all scrunched up. When Regulus was born, Miss Clementine had said that it was because he had been in the bath inside his mother's tummy too long. The memory made him laugh, as he reached up to softly stroke her red cheek, and he crooned, “How was your long warm bath, little Libra Sagitta Black?” he felt silly for using a baby voice, but seeing his sister’s golden eyes for the first time was rather magical. 

It was how one knew a Black from other people who had grey eyes, which were common enough. A Black’s eyes were golden for the first year or two, and then turned to silver over time. He had worried that because Libra was a bastard she wouldn't have it, but he should have trusted Regulus.

Miss Clementine giggled softly at his words, but then gasped, as little Libra’s whole body glowed silver, and his heirship ring throbbed warmly on his finger, growing slightly heavier. His eyes widened as he realised no one knew that name except him--and of course Regulus, who had been the one to tell him of it.

He quickly looked up at his grandfather, who was blinking down at him, looking utterly shocked for the first time in Ophiuchus’ memory. He opened his mouth to apologise, but his grandfather gave a little huff and he seemed to relax instead of growing angry, which was confusing, but it was better than getting punished. He seemed to share a long silent conversation with Miss Clementine over Ophiuchus’ head before he said, “Well, Miss Bones; Libra Sagitta Black, you are hereby under the protection of Heir Ophiuchus Corvus Black, and a part of his household. Ophiuchus, why don't you sit, so that you may hold Little Libra safely?” 

He nodded eagerly and climbed into a rocking chair at the end of the bed, which was the only chair in the room. His grandfather took Libra from Miss Clementine, pausing only a moment to give her a soft smile and stroke her chubby chin before he turned and placed her into Ophiuchus’ arms, and he couldn't stop himself from beaming as he held onto the warm little bundle. Libra opened her eyes and stared at Ophiuchus, who quietly stared back. 

His grandfather cleared his throat, and said, “Now Ophiuchus, as you have claimed the role of her Patron and Protector, you need to bless her with family magic, so repeat these words after me…”

Later, after saying a lot of words in Latin, Greek, and ancient gaelic, and feeling his ring and his magic do a lot of things he only had a vague understanding of; and  _ then _ going back to Black Keep and getting lectured on what  _ precisely _ he had just done, and the many possible repercussions of the act--which had been a sincere mistake, but one he regretted not at all--he arrived home to absolute pandemonium. 

His mother was looking positively wild, her hair everywhere, her make-up smeared, and voice hoarse, screeching louder than he'd ever heard her before. 

It was unclear who precisely was the target of the vitriol she was spewing, as his father was standing in front of Sirius (for once doing something other than standing by or petulantly making things worse for his sons) who was standing in front of Regulus, who was standing in front of the family tapestry, arms spread protectively. 

His baby brother looked absolutely terrified, just as he always did when their parents fought; both because of the violence that they both tended towards when even the slightest bit riled, and because magic tended to be thrown around in a careless way that hurt his sensitivity. Usually the boy would be hidden in the furthest and most protected place he could find, but instead he was defying his mother’s attempts to shred the offending cloth; he supposed because it was no doubt reflecting the change that had been wrought on the original family tapestry which was locked away in their family’s Lord’s vault, and it would be newly updated with the newest little bud, the beautiful Libra Sagitta Black. Ophiuchus was fascinated to see that she was placed with her mother under his name in silver thread instead of gold. There was a gold thread that lead from his father as well, but indeed Ophiuchus was responsible for his new sister. 

His mother, who hadn't seen him yet, had her wand and was shooting off ribboning charms; four of which had obviously landed on his father’s person. Sirius was also bleeding, and even Regulus had a red nick on his chubby cheek.

Watching Regulus quiver and bleed, and still display more decorum and sense than either parent, Ophiuchus felt anger thrum deep inside of him. He must have made a noise as all the sudden his mother turned and screamed, “You!  _ Blood traitor _ ! How could you tear this family apart? My own  _ son _ ?!” 

Ophiuchus stood firmly, putting all of his practice at keeping his emotions close to the chest. They had said the real test would be Hogwarts, but he felt that might not be very accurate. Walburga Black was the very definition of testing. 

He quickly looked to see his father pulling an expression he didn't recognise. Sirius looked shocked at the thought of Ophiuchus being called a 'blood traitor' (which was heir mother’s chosen insult for Sirius as he was so different from the rest of them); while Regulus was sneaking him looks of pride, relief, and an innocent joy, which Ophiuchus knew was because of the arrival of their sister.

Regulus didn't know, but Ophiuchus had taken that picture of their ‘sister’ and kept it in a hidden and locked box where he'd begun to collect all of the little things Regulus did like that, things which seemed a little uncanny. There were his artworks of course, but also a journal where he wrote a report of all of the odd things Regukus said, or instances of accidental magic that seemed significant. He'd hate for anyone to find it, but he couldn't trust his mind to simply remember all of the times something happened, let alone the necessary details. 

The fact that this had come to be was extremely significant, and worth thinking about. 

He would never tell his mother about Regulus’ fae attributes, and nor would he stand for her nonsense. He thought about what had happened that day. 

He hadn't really thought much about what it meant when his grandfather had decided to pass his own son over for Ophiuchus as heir. He'd been told that he would have a great many responsibilities and work to do in the future, and the authority to carry that out, but today he realised that he  _ already did _ .

Even though he was ten, his parents behaved like children. Mean, petty little children who bickered and flunked their responsibilities, and sired bastards and hurt their family. He may only be ten, but he knew in that moment it was time to step in. 

“THAT’S  _ QUITE _ ENOUGH!” He said, putting power into his voice.

His parents both quieted, but Ophiuchus wasn't fooling himself into believing it was anything other than surprise at being spoken to that way by a ten year old than anything else. 

In the resulting stillness he noticed that Sirius had been out flying again, and the weather had been absolutely  _ dreadful _ . They only had access to training brooms, but still, he could have been hurt! He was covered from head to toe with mud, and it looked like the Little King had followed him out, though he didn't think Regulus would have tried to fly. Or at least he hoped not.

“Mother. Father. It's past nine at night! Why aren't the boys in bed? They haven't even had baths yet! Have they even eaten? Or have you had them in here watching you two  _ bicker _ all night?” 

Both parents hissed as they breathed in air in preparation to explode, but he clicked his tongue, “We’re going to the Keep for the rest of the week. You two sort your personal issues out by then.” 

He held out his hands and Sirius and Regulus edged out from behind Orion and came to his side, “Beastie!” An elf appeared from Black Keep, “Would you please take us to Black Keep?” Regulus looked upset about something, “And then come back here to pack us enough clothing for the week? Please don't forget to bring Nox the Blackest Chimera for Regulus...” 


	4. Chapter 4

It was September first and Ophiuchus sat on the Hogwarts Express, looking out of the window. He knew he should be taking advantage of the significant moment to meet some of his peers, and begin the politicking and introductions that would take place alongside his education for the next seven years, but he needed a moment of quiet that the otherwise empty compartment afforded him. 

He was excited to go to school and meet new friends and learn new things, but he was concerned about his brothers who were at home. 

Ever since Libra’s birth six months ago, their household hadn't been the best environment for any of them, but Regulus and Sirius were so much more vulnerable than he was, and they were the ones left in London with the  _ children _ they had for parents. They were in their  _ twenties _ for goodness sakes. Surely someone more than twice the age of Ophiuchus should be twice as mature and capable and yet...they weren't.

He had spoken to his grandfather and grandmother about it, but they had just told him to worry about Hogwarts and doing well at school to represent the family well. 

They had told him that his brothers, as well as the girls--Narcissa and Bella as well as Libra,

would be taken care of. He just had to look out for Andy, even though she was three years older than him, and make sure to prepare the way for all of the others who would be joining them over the next few years. 

Ophiuchus thought about that, and thought about his parents, and uncle Cygnus who had gotten a girl pregnant when he was  _ thirteen _ and had quickly married to hide it. Ophiuchus would never begrudge Andy’s existence, even if his mother treated her badly, and said horrible things about her. She was a part of his family, and that meant she was under his protection. 

Besides, she had more decorum and sense in her little toe than his mother had in her whole body. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, he heard a knock on the door. He stood and made sure his clothing wasn't rumpled, before he opened the door a crack, and he saw his cousin standing there with four others. He opened the door wider and nodded his head in greeting, “Cousin,” he greeted. 

She gave him a wink, unseen by the people behind her, before she introduced them, “Hello cousin! May I introduce you to my friends Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dominic Greengrass, Amelia Bones, and Morrigan McGonagall? Friends, this is my cousin, Heir Ophiuchus Black.” 

They all bowed or curtsied as propriety dictated, and Ophiuchus kissed Bones’ and McGonagall’s hands, making them blush. He couldn't help seeing the young Miss Bones, and wonder at his sister’s mother’s relation to this young Lady. He suppressed a sigh at the reminder of his complicated family and stepped back, inviting them into his compartment. 

He saw Andy raise an eyebrow at him sitting in a compartment alone, but she didn't comment out loud as they all arranged themselves in the compartment, the girls taking one side, while the boys sat next to him. 

He looked at the older kids and waited for them to say something, but they all seemed to be waiting for him. He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you looking forward to fourth year?”


	5. Chapter 5

“Ah, another one from the Old Family then,” he heard in his head, and Ophiuchus suppressed a smile (even though most of his face was hidden by the old hat and couldn't be seen anyway), they were hardly ever called that anymore. It was a shame. There was something about all the old stories that stirred up his blood and made him  _ yearn _ . 

Of course if they were still a matriarchal clan, then Walburga might have been in line for Chieftess; but it would have been more likely that his Aunt Lucretia inherited that responsibility; which she would be perfect for. He often wondered how things would be under Aunt Dorea, instead of old Sirius. It had been his great grandfather’s idea to make his parents marry one another as a punishment for something or other after all. 

Imagine being so short sighted as to think of using a  _ marriage _ as a punishment?! He remembered a conversation he'd had with Aunt Cassie about why she had never wed, and she had said ‘Ophiuchus, never forget that a marriage makes history. Wars have been fought over marriages; peace has been won with them. You never really can predict just what might happen when two families crash together in such a permanent way. I never married, because I found no one who I wanted to bring into our family. I would rather spend my time working with the archives, and making sure our memories are as long as they need to be, readying us for the next generation.’

He'd never forgotten it. 

His thoughts were interrupted by The Hat, “Well then, I can see that you are a wise one. A fan of history! 

“Here is a question then; do you wish to learn  _ about _ history, to  _ write _ history, to  _ change _ history, or to  _ make _ history?”

This gave Ophiuchus pause. He hadn't known there was a quiz element to the sorting.

“Oh there isn't, but your mind is a subtle one, and I think it's important that we take our time with this decision...”

Ophiuchus’ eyebrows went up, hidden as they were by The Hat. He heard people start to murmur at the tables, but tried not to get distracted by his audience. 

The hat had clearly seen that he had been thinking about his family of late, and what he wanted to do. It was true that he felt the Blacks had been a bit wonky since Phineas Nigellus became so very famous with his pettiness and bigotry. Ophiuchus had spoken to the man’s portrait a few times, and there was nothing for it; the man was a snob. Many of his relatives were right there with him, but the Blacks hadn't had always been like that. They weren't  _ supposed _ to be like that. They had to do better if they wished to survive, as most of the things his parents said were so dim and controverted that even Phineas thought they were ridiculous and extreme, and Phineus thought boiling babies and using human parts for potions was permissible if he felt the occasion called for it!

When Ophiuchus closed his eyes, he thought of the moors where Black Keep sat; the wild country of Derbyshire, which had housed, hid, and protected their family for so many centuries. He thought of old battles fought with the aid of hippogriffs and dragons; riders who worked with thestrals to get important messages to far flung places without being seen or heard. He thought of alchemy, and soul magic; ancient rituals that men had no access to, and thus were lost to time as the tradition of patriarchal power structures other clans favoured replaced their own, and the magic of women was discarded as foolish or not elegant or impressive enough to be important. 

“I think…” He heard wingbeats in his ears, and hoofbeats in his heart, “I feel…” He felt the pelting storm and gusty winds from the day he met Libra for the first time, “I want…” He thought of Sirius and Regulus, wet, shivering and muddy with bloody cheeks, standing strong, protecting their family legacy even while the generation before did everything they could to discard it, “I want to  _ meet _ history. I want to  _ be _ history...I want to  _ learn  _ from history instead of making all the same mistakes! I want to  _ feel _ history, for it to be  _ real _ and  _ true _ and not tall tales kept around to make someone look better than they really were! I want….”

He frowned in frustration. He felt so small and powerless. He didn't have the right words to say what he wanted. 

“It  _ is _ hard, my young Heir Black. I can see many paths, and most of them are only slightly different. But I can now see that the best ones, the ones closest to all that you have articulated, take place in  _ RAVENCLAW _ !”

He said the last part out loud, and as Ophiuchus pulled The Hat from his head, he saw that three quarters of the room were frozen with expressions of shock on their faces. He stood, and handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall with his thanks. He smoothed his robes as they shimmered with bronze coloured magic, and turned blue and bronze for his new House, even as he felt a mantle land on his shoulders that he wondered at. However now was not the time for that kind of question, and he began walking to the table filled with the people who had begun to clap for him. 

He made sure to look pleased to be going to Ravenclaw, which wasn't at all difficult as he  _ was _ , and his housemates, who had expected him to be vicious and angry that he'd not followed his ancestors, responded positively. 

He saw Andy’s friend Miss McGonagall, who had been wearing blue and bronze on the train, waving to him, and he accepted her invitation to a seat near her, “I didn't pick you for a scandalmonger, Black,” she said dryly as he sat down. 

Ophiuchus thought of his father and Miss Clementine and suppressed a frown, instead snorting and saying, “And here I thought we corvus types were here for the books!” 

She nodded and her eyes glittered as she said, “This is true; we have our own library. But I think you'll find there are a great many scandals in those books. History,  _ real _ history is  _ messy,  _ and all too subjective _ ,  _ so be ready for arguments. We love our debates, get no sleep, and blow things up on a regular occasion,” She added with a smile, “Gryffindor might think they're the fighters, but while they only strive to protect the  _ present _ , we Ravenclaws work to protect  _ millennia,  _ looking both forwards and backwards.”

Ophiuchus pondered her words, and looked around the table and smiled, “That really...sounds quite entirely perfect.” 

**Author's Note:**

> warning: the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black 
> 
> this fic contains references to: neglectful parenting, abuse, rape, child molestation and graphic depictions of ritual revenge. 
> 
> I will put warnings as needed at the start of every chapter as relevant. please stay safe, but do be assured that as usual this story has a happy ending, and is specifically being written as a comfort and fix it fic, not angst porn. the whump is present, but barely there tbh. 
> 
> If you know my work, then you know I prefer to write about cuddles and shy, scholarly boys solving problems with their brains and earnestness, and this is no different <3
> 
> Please don't come at me about canonical accuracy. this is an AU and I am firmly in the 'I write for myself/I do what I want ' camp of fan fiction writing. However if you like the work and it makes you have an emotion, please feel free to talk to me about it. It's always good to know what translates well to my readers <3


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